


Prelude

by CountingWithTurkeys



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Enemies to Friends, F/F, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-14 23:52:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16051151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CountingWithTurkeys/pseuds/CountingWithTurkeys
Summary: Every good relationship needs a humble beginning. By that logic, the strongest and most binding of ties must have the rockiest beginnings of all.





	Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Real Talk: And we're back! Like many others I wanted to do something to celebrate Bubbline becoming canon, so I decided to do one more quick little pre-Bubbline before returning to stories involving sociopath Bonnie. I hadn't initially intended to write something this early in their relationship, but a special event like the finale deserves a special story, so what the heck. I hope you enjoy it, because it's actually sort of a writing experiment.
> 
> In unrelated news, I have a tumblr now! It's countingwithturkeys! I plan to post polls and contests, as well as blurbs and short stories that otherwise don't fit in the Symphony Universe and thus will never be posted on AO3 (I even have one up already). I'll also periodically ask for your collective input on ideas I have, and some other things as well! In fact, once we hit 20 followers I plan to hold a contest where I will write the winner a request fic. To enter you just need to respond to a poll I'll post. Once the contest goes live I'll post the rules, but in essence you give me an idea and I'll write it! 
> 
> Disclaimer: All of my stories exist within the same universe/continuity - The Symphony Universe - which exists within main canon in a "possible but not necessarily probable" manner. They're just not posted chronologically, because where's the fun in that? All stories contain at least one reference to a future story, because I roll that way. They often contain references to past stories. They also usually hint where they happen within the canon continuity. I like hints.

Things were getting out of hand.

Her laboratory was ruined. In fact, everything was ruined. Her laboratory, her clothes, her experiment, her dignity. Ruined, caked in purple sludge that had once been a promising experiment. The first of its kind, it held such promise. The key to begin a new species, the secret to creating life itself. She had been so close this time, she could feel it in her gum. Ruined. And she knew exactly who to blame. Eyes narrowing behind her safety goggles, hand clasping around the remains of the beaker she had been holding tight enough to break the glass, her eyes closed. Steady breathing exercises failed her, her anger rose to the surface and escaped her in righteous fury.

“What the flip is wrong with you?!”

Laughter, cackling really, from an invisible entity filled the air. Then a voice materialized behind her. A melodic, infuriating thing that caused her skin to bristle and her jaw to clench in pure ire. “Geeze, Bubblegum, look who’s talking. Look at this dump! You really gotta start labeling your junk, huh?” There wasn’t quite  _ malice  _ in the vampire’s voice, but it was taunting and, more importantly, knowing.

_ I knew it!  _ With a growl that was decidedly undignified - but then Bonnibel Bubblegum was beyond dignity at the moment, no, rage was much more valid - the candy golem ripped her now cracked goggles from her head and turned sharply to stare at a patch of wall where she knew,  _ knew  _ a vampire was sneering. “Are you absolutely insane?! Do you know how dangerous that was?!”

Just as she had predicted a body materialized, floating in mid-air and radiating just as much irreverence as Bonnibel was radiating fury. And, to make matters worse, she only gave a dismissive shrug. “I dunno what you’re talking about, Bubblegum. I’m not the thing who poured the other thing into the third thing and made it explode weird goop.” She knew the vampire was a gifted musician, but apparently her talents extended to infuriating hapless souls as well. Now the pink hand, clad safely a thick rubber glove, flexed hard enough to shatter the remains of the beaker and the undead woman snickered. “Look at you, still breaking stuff! You’re hardcore, Bubblegum. Fight the power.”

Bonnibel Bubblegum liked to think of herself as a patient woman, but this was too much. All of it was too much. In fact, if she were honest with herself, things had been getting out of hand for awhile now, and this - all of  _ this  _ \- was just the final straw in a long string of pranks and accidents and mischief. “Do you have no regard for the consequences of your actions?! Someone could have been hurt! Or killed!”

Marceline Abadeer threw her hands up in defense, a poor play at being innocent, but her smirk said otherwise, betraying her insincerity. “Ah, come on, Bubblegum. I wouldn’t have let you gotten killed. ‘Sides, you’re the one who woke me up, you’re the one who tried to catch me in a net, like that would  _ ever  _ hold me. As far as I see it you started all this.”

“And when exactly do you plan to end it?,” Bonnibel replied icily.

Marceline tapped her chin in faux pondrance, as if this were a brand new question, something she had never seriously considered before. Maybe she never had. “Dunno. How long do your kind live?”

There was a sharp intake of breath as the candy golem tried and failed to soothe her temper. It would do no good, she knew that logically. Her suffering only seemed to feed the vampire, somehow encouraging her to torment the pink woman. It hadn’t always been this bad. No, it had started small; moving items in her bedroom around, leaving taunting notes around her cabin, rearranging her carefully organized bookshelf. And, okay,  _ maybe  _ Bonnibel wasn’t innocent,  _ maybe  _ she had retaliated everytime; garlic coatings on the surfaces she knew the vampire hovered closest to, pressure-sensitive alarms on the window sills to blare noises when she tried to sneak in, that one device that launched a stake - a  _ plastic  _ stake, mind you - in the air at chest level when the closet was opened.

If she were honest with herself, and she wasn’t, everything had lead to their prank war escalating through the handful of years they had known one another. It had started with finding the half-demon encased in ice with a small poodle and, really, she had only wanted one little sample of both. But the action had awaken the pair and as she quickly learned Marceline had not appreciated waking up to a scalpel pressed against her skin. Since then, since Bonnibel had made the error of trying to justify herself, Marceline hadn’t left her alone. Sure, sometimes she disappeared for stretches of time, even up to a month or two, but surely this was a calculated move to cause a great deal of anxiety in the younger woman as she tried to anticipate when and where the queen would strike next.

She didn’t believe for a second that Marceline had a life outside of her, despite what she claimed.

And now it all had reached a head, because while Bonnibel’s garments were ruined beyond repair Marceline floated in her distastefully torn black jeans, flannel shirt unbuttoned from the top to the very beginning of her cleavage, a steel-spiked black-cloth wristband accentuating her left wrist, black combat boots allowing her to land on the glass shards littering the floor with a lound *crunch*. Her hair was tied back, and the only thing decorating her face besides a black steel eyebrow ring - that was new, Bonnibel absently reflected - was that cursed smirk, that glow of pride.

In contrast to her perfect appearance Bonnibel’s laboratory, her precious baby, was, for lack of better word, trashed. It was small, too small for any of it to be spared the explosion that had resulted her mixing two chemicals that should never ever be mixed: the table in which her computer sat had been slipped to its side, rendering the computer a pile of broken keys and scrap metal; the cord powering her newly-found and surprisingly intact centrifuge was frayed beyond use, leaving all of her precious chemicals spoiled and unusable; three of her previously immaculate cabinets were cracked and splintered, shattering who knew how many of the test tubes and beakers within; even the previously brown wooden walls, poster of the periodic table as the humans had understood it, and what few books she had managed to salvage were probably stained beyond recognition from the purple goop that coated  _ everything _ .

The laboratory was like a child to her, and it would takes days, if not weeks, to put it back together, and longer still to recover the effort loss from the destruction of her experiment. And even when she did mend her things how many of her possessions were beyond saving? How much of her effort in exploring the dangerous world beyond her cabin were now in vain? Humiliated and seething, Bonnibel shed her spoiled lab coat, ripping off her rubber gloves and letting both drop to the floor. At least her clothes, save her pink work boots, were still in one piece, protected by her laboratory attire. Still a thick magenta long-sleeved shirt with light blue jeans, though somehow her experiment’s remains had missed her hair, possibly because it was tied back as well. Yes, in contrast to the room that was now a testament to her quarrel with the infuriating woman before her Bonnibel herself was clean. Not that it quelled her animosity. Not that anything ever would.

“See? Look at you. You’re good. You really gotta chill and appreciate the little things in life. I mean… seriously, how long do your kind live? I can’t keep of  _ every  _ mortal lifespan.”

Bonnibel flushed an interesting shade of red. “Firstly, I will have you know that not everything… no, in fact,  _ nothing  _ is ‘good’,” she emphasized with finger quotes, “about this. Secondly, I do appreciate the ‘little things in life’,” more finger quotes, “and, finally, I’m immortal.” Immediately after those words left her mouth did she regret them, because rather than make some point even she was unsure of Marceline’s eyes lit her, her smirk turning into a devilish grin.

“Oh really?” It was a dark purr. “I didn’t know your kind were immortal. So we get to hang out forever?”

_ As if this were a game!  _ Bonnibel took in a deep, calming breath, then sighed. Not that it helped anything, but Marceline didn’t need to know that. “Perhaps if you spent more time considering all of the variables and observing the situation around you you would know more about your opponent before striking. That’s basic common sense, but I’m not surprised you wouldn’t know about basic common sense.”

Marceline raised an eyebrow, grin still amused, but smaller.  _ Huh. She sounds so mad.  _ “Oh yeah? Try me.”

Bonnibel nodded, for two could play at this game. “Oh yes, I know all about you, even if you choose to know nothing about me. Marceline Abadeer, the self-entitled ‘Scream Queen’,” what was with all the finger quotes?, “self-stylized punkest rocker in all of Ooo. The queen of the vampires, not that there are any other vampires left-”

“Yeah, and you know why I’m the last of my kind?” She hooked her thumb to herself. “‘Cause I ganked them all.” So much pride, as if she didn’t know it always came before destruction.

“An entire species,” Bonnibel replied, disbelieving.

“Yup,” Marceline snickered, even popping the ‘p’ at the end for emphasis. “All of ‘em. I’m surprised you don’t know that if you know all about me. Guess you’re not as perfect as you thought you were.”

_ Don’t encourage this, Bonnibel, whatever you do do not encourage this-  _ “And why in the world would you exact genocide against your own kind?” Still disbelieving, but this time with an undertone of curiosity. Surely this woman was exaggerating, if not outright lying, but if there was any semblance of truth to her claim then Bonnibel could not rule out that she was more dangerous than she initially gave her credit for.

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Marceline shrugged.

“I’m hardly worried-”

“And what about you? Haven’t met many nerds since the world ended.”

The taunts and insults were getting old. “Science and knowledge must be preserved!”

Now Marceline raised both eyebrows. “Man, you seem pretty upset, Bubblegum. Did I strike a nerve?”

Bonnibel saw red. Figuratively. Possibly turning literally, anger could do strange things to a person. “You ruined my home!”

Marceline shrugged. “I thought we went over this.  _ You  _ ruined your home ‘cause you trusted labels to tell you what was okay. For a scientist it’s kinda weird that you just followed the directions. I thought you guys were all about discovery and bending the laws of nature?”

Bonnibel silently resolved to stop labelling her specimens and chemicals. “As a scientist I must first understand-” And then she paused. Reconsidered who she was talking to, whose ego she was inadvertently feeding. “I’m not having this conversation with something like you!”

Strangely, almost alarmingly, Marceline’s mood seemed to darken. “Something like me?”

How nice it was to get under the musician’s skin for a change, and Bonnibel intended to milk it for everything it was worth. “A blood-sucking vampire lecturing me about the laws of nature? It’s ridiculous! Your very existence is an affront to the natural order!” Maybe she was going too far? “As a scientist I create and understand! What are you doing? Destroying progress because you think inflicting misery is funny!” Okay, definitely going a little far now. “What have you ever done? Or do you simply enjoy tormenting me? Is that your life? Or… whatever it is you have? Do you have nothing to do besides fill the vacuum of your existence by troubling others?!” Too far.

At some point in Bonnibel’s diatribe Marceline’s elated expression had fallen, and she watched the younger woman blankly now. Only when she stopped to catch her breath did she respond, quietly and uncharacteristically serious. “Man, I’ve never seen you so emotional. I really struck a nerve, huh?” Rhetorical questions deserved no answers. “You know, I had a life once.” Somehow she didn’t seem to be talking about her music tours. “You know why I ganked all those vampires? ‘Cause once upon a time there were these things called ‘humans’, and those vampires were eating them. There’s no more vampires now. Just me. And you know what? I don’t drink blood.” Her head tilted, all humor gone. “You know what, Bubblegum? You’re a really judgmental person, you know?”

“You destroyed my lab.”

“Cool. Have fun with that.” She raised her hands again, not in mock defense, but in… what? What did that expression mean? Bonnibel wasn’t sure, but something in the air felt different, different from what was before, different from all those other times they had quarreled. “I’m out.” And then she was gone, not even sound following her retreat.

Bonnibel rolled her eyes at the over-dramaticism. She may not know much about the vampire, but her being overly dramatic? That was hardly new.  _ The next prank is going to be even worse. How can a woman so old be such a child?  _ She shook her head but didn’t turn from where the vampire had just disappeared from. She knew she was watching her still, just waiting for her to turn her back, maybe initiate Part 2 in retaliation for the candy golem’s harsh words. Well, Bonnibel had no intention of being terrorized, and so she did turn her back and, straining her ears for the tell-tale sign she was being stalked, began to plan the clean-up procedure to turn her laboratory usable once more.  _ By the time she returns everything will be in top shape and she will see that her pranks can do no lasting damage. _

Except… Marceline didn’t return. Not that night, not the next, not in a week or two. It was nice, really, to actually get some work done. Of course Bonnibel kept an ear out, knew she was being observed as the vampire looked for a moment of weakness. It was exactly her style: wait until the scientist was comfortable, then bam, prank time. Except… two weeks turned into a month, then two. It made Bonnibel uneasy, made her frown.  _ Is this her retaliation? To make me so anxious I cannot concentrate because I’m too busy waiting for her to reappear and disrupt my life? Well, it won’t work.  _ Except… it was working, because Marceline  _ never  _ left her alone for this long. Whether it was because she got bored or simply didn’t have the attention span, the vampire always made an appearance to torment her in some way, and while it wouldn’t be accurate to say Bonnibel missed it exactly it did make her uneasy, as disruptions in her life’s routine often did.  _ Odd. I’ve never considered her a fixture in my life but it technically fits, doesn’t it?  _ Not to be confused with an enjoyable fixture in her life, mind you, but Bonnibel hated changes to her routine regardless, unless she was the one initiating them.  _ I bet this is her revenge! Though… does she even know I hate such things?  _ It was a puzzle, that was for sure. Certainly the queen knew more about the young scientist than the young scientist knew about the queen.  _ Perhaps that’s the problem. _

These thoughts plagued, mostly at night. In the daytime it was easier to justify the vampire’s absence, because there was some truth in myths, and even she had observed that the daylight could seriously hurt her tormentor. But at night Bonnibel always kept an ear strain for her signs and Glob help her she was beginning to miss the imp. Not the taunting and mayhem, no, but after Bonnibel’s own traumatic childhood it was nice to have some type of normality, even if it was objectively twisted. It wasn’t like the vampire was a positive aspect of her life per se, but she was someone to talk to that wasn’t a rat. Even if their conversations did almost entirely consist of squabbling.

As the days continued to pass the half-demon’s absence was beginning to grow more disruptive to Bonnibel’s everyday life. So much so that, without even realizing it, she had begun to research the queen, and not just as her opponent. She tried to pass it off as intellectual curiosity; after all, Marceline had made some wild claims in the past, but her final ones before disappearing seemed oddly specific for her.  _ Let’s look at this logically. She said that she ‘had a life once’. Was she referring to being alive? I suppose that makes sense, as she’s a vampire. Does becoming a vampire require the victim to die?  _ What an odd thought, to consider the vampire a victim to anything.  _ Of course, I cannot rule out that it was consensual… _

There were too many mysteries, and, as a scientist, Bonnibel considered it her moral obligation to solve them all. Not because she missed the half-demon, but because if her mind wasn’t going to leave the topic alone it meant she needed… what? Closure? A return to normality? A mental chew toy? She settled on that last one. It was certainly the most tasteful and would allow her to sleep at night.

And so she researched and explored every lead she could find, not that the vampire made it easy. The woman wasn’t even a hundred and fifty years her senior, but apparently that was more than enough time to turn her into a figurative ghost. Which… made sense, as it would put her birth as during, or perhaps even before, The Great Mushroom War, and while some objects existed from the time before the bombs there were few if any records. She had mentioned rescuing humans but humans were extinct now, as was the rest of her species. The queen was half-demon, but Bonnibel didn’t exactly know any demons, or even where they came from, and so that was a dead end as well. All she had to go on was- “Well… she’s a musician. Where do musicians congregate?” It was a mutter directed to Science as the beloved rat lay curled up on her violet sweater. Not that she blamed her; it was turning cold, and that sweater was particularly warm. There were no ongoing concerts that she was aware of, or her best fact-finding indicated, and the Grasslands was hardly a haven for budding musical hotspots. Most denizens were simple farmers, or just simple in general.

Not that it answered her question, and with a sigh she sat back in her chair, leaving the rat to nap on her tan wooden desk. Her bedroom may not be spacious but the desk was something she’d never get rid of. After all, she’d had some of her best ideas behind it. But now there were no ‘best ideas’, only a frustrating puzzle, and while the scientist typically loved puzzles she disliked this one for some reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on.  _ Even when I find her what exactly is my plan of action?  _ Bonnibel certainly wasn’t sorry for any of the things she said because sure, they were harsh, but they were also accurate, and why should she apologize for being right? What would denying reality do to help anyone? Who knew an immortal undead creature could be so sensitive? Eyes closed she rubbed her temples, trying to repress her budding migraine. By now her nemesis had been missing for almost four months and Bonnibel was no closer to solving this mystery. There wasn’t even a trail to go cold. Her eyes slid open and she turned to stare out her window, into the bright sun as it beamed down on Butterscotch Lake, as it illuminated the sheen of the Grasslands. 

_ What if…  _ The thought emerged, was pushed to the back of her mind, only to push itself forward again.  _ Did she get hurt? What hurts a vampire? Well, daylight certainly… so she would need a place to hide. Where do vampires nest?  _ She frowned once more - that seemed to happen a lot these days - before turning back to Science. Her pet was such a good listener. “She would need somewhere consistently dark, so unless she’s doing her music touring thing it’s most likely that she has somewhere to hide, and because she comes… or, rather, used to come to harass me so often it must be somewhere nearby.” Yes, that all made sense. At least it gave her somewhere to start and she stood, reaching for her pile of maps. 

It had been a pet project of her’s for the past few years, mapping the whole of Ooo as best she could. Not that she could stray  _ too  _ far; Science might be alright on her own for a few days, but her brother needed reassurance and supervision, lest he get himself hurt or attempt to wander off on his own. But she had managed to map the Grasslands and its outskirts in full, and she could only hope Marceline’s location could be deduced from such limited information. As she lay the map over her desk she began to scan its topography, searching for any place that fit the bill.  _ The forest may be dark but I can’t see her risking dying or… whatever it is would happen to her if the sun shined just a little too brightly.  _ As hard as it was to pay her the compliment the vampire  _ was  _ clever, and though her intellect was no match for Bonnibel’s she wasn’t exactly stupid, or anywhere near it. In fact, many of her tricks and pranks involved more than a superficial understanding of physics, and she had proven insightful enough on more than one occasion to predict the candy golem’s behavior.

Bonnibel hated being predicted, even if she could admit that it was, at times, impressive.

Pushing that thought away as well she began to trace the outlines of the map, frustration growing until something caught her eye and she hovered over it.  _ Perhaps a cave?  _ Yes, that would provide adequate cover, and there was a large cave in the southern tip of the Grasslands. It wasn’t a place Bonnibel had been to anytime recently - none of her experiments called for anything a cave could provide - but for now it was her only lead.  _ But when…?  _ Once more she turned to look out the window, at the cheerful sky that had no care in the world.  _ It seems most pragmatic to try there in the day. If she’s there she’ll be asleep. At least, I assume so. It would make the most sense for a vampire to be nocturnal.  _ Without bothering to replace the map to its proper location she turned to leave.  _ I have enough daylight left. _

Perhaps she was being rash, but Bonnibel knew if she didn’t go now she’d lose the light and her one advantage. Then it would be another day before she could try to hunt down her quarry, and while she was a patient woman this was something it was better to get over with than to drag out. After all, she might lose her nerve, and that was unacceptable. And so, armed with her raygun as her only means of defense Bonnibel left her home, locked the door, and stalked off, wearing only her lavender hoodie, purple skirt and lilac stockings, and magenta shoes. A fine travelling outfit if there ever was one.

It wasn’t exactly a long journey, objectively speaking anyway, but a lifetime of fending for herself left the young scientist cautious and observant of her surroundings. In the daylight, and in the Grasslands no less, it was unlikely to run into trouble but that didn’t mean she could be too comfortable. Fortunately, luck was on her side; though she caught sight of Grassland denizens they were humble villagers, even waving to her as she travelled, and the sky remained bright and clear. If Marceline were a cave dweller the sun would surely keep her trapped long enough for Bonnibel to find her. Exactly what would happen after she found her she didn’t know, except that she needed to resolve whatever it was that was going on.  _ We can’t spend years engaged in our prank war for you to disappear, Marceline. It’s… rude! _

And then there was the cave.

It appeared abruptly, as caves so often do. The entrance was dark, just as she had expected, and Bonnibel could hear water gently dripping from the stalactites, could feel the exact spot the temperature dropped, for without the light there was little in the way of warmth. With every bit of caution the scientist peaked her head inside, squinting against the darkness within. Expecting that, at any second, the vampire would jump out at her to startle her.

What she didn’t expect, though, was the singing. It was soft and accompanied by something deep, some instrument the candy woman didn’t recognize. It was also beautiful and it halted Bonnibel where she stood. From the distance the cave’s natural echo made it impossible to discern the lyrics, turning them into a haunting melody, but it was almost entrancing. It wasn’t like Bonnibel was a stranger to music, even if she didn’t listen to much. But this was new, and for a moment the woman was intrigued but disappointed, for she knew the half-demon was a ‘punk rocker’. Why would she play something so gentle?

A dog barked and the music stopped, only to be replaced by a laugh. “Schwabl, you threw me off!” The laugh was musical as well, lacking the taunting tone, the contempt it so often held when it was directed at Bonnibel. And that was strange, stranger than Bonnibel thought reasonable, because it made her think of the vampire as someone other than a tormentor-  _ No. If she is it has nothing to do with you. You know she’s alive, Bonnibel, it’s time to go home.  _ But her feet weren’t leading her home. They were leading her deeper inside the cave.  _ Yes. Well. If she’s here now’s the perfect time to confront her. Who knows when I’ll find her again?  _ There, a perfectly adequate excuse.

When her footsteps grew deep enough to echo from the walls she slowed her walk, listening carefully as the music stopped. Her ears listened to the silence, not to the sounds around her, because the silence was more conspicuous. She could feel she was being watched but proceeded along anyway, as if she had not a care in the world. But her heart was beating quickly as the realization that she was in a vampire’s lair settled over her. Sure, Marceline had claimed she didn’t drink blood, but was she really a reliable source of information? It was more likely she was messing with her, lying to throw her off her guard.  _ But then, she did sound serious-  _ Her attempts to reassure herself was interrupted when the woman suddenly materialized in front of her, and without meaning to Bonnibel startled, then flushed in embarrassment.

Marceline’s eyebrows raised, her head tilting. In the dark it was too difficult to see her except when she moved, but Bonnibel would know that teasing tone anywhere. “Oh man, look Schwabl. We have a nerd alert. What up?” There was the same taunting inflection, but there was something else there as well, something not unlike bitterness. Would Marceline actually hurt her? Was invading her space something vampires would kill over?

_ Those legends exist for a reason,  _ Bonnibel reminded herself. But she had her own reputation. “What do you mean ‘what up’?”

Unseen by the candy golem, Marceline raised an eyebrow, head still tilted. “You find yourself in caves often? ‘Cause they’re not very safe places for people made of gum. You look pretty soft to me.”

It was amazing how easily this woman could make Bonnibel blush. And coupled with the insult of being called ‘soft’. It was too much, and her previously non-existent temper flared back to life, as only Marceline could make it. Was it an overreaction? Possibly. But since when did that matter? “You… you…  Verlierer! Schuft! Wie kannst du es wagen!”

Marceline blinked, waiting for what became an explosion to settle. “...You done? ‘Cause first of all, I have no idea what any of that meant. Second of all… no, seriously, what the flip are you doing here?”

Bonnibel panted, just as surprised by her own vitriol as Marceline. “What are you planning?!”

“Uh…”

“You disappeared for four months-”

Marceline held up a hand, not that Bonnibel could see it. “Woah, hold up. You’re the one who was all judge-y. No way am I hanging around for that load.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, you could have killed me!”

Marceline sighed. “I told you, I wouldn’t have let you die. Wrecking all your stuff is one thing. I wasn’t gonna-”

“Explosions kill people, Marceline!”

The vampire groaned. “You know what? I’ll prove it. Do me a solid and turn around and walk forward.”

Bonnibel huffed. “I’m not in the mood for games.”

“Just do it, okay? You scientists are all about experiments and crud. Just turn around, walk like… I dunno. Five feet. Not hard, Bubblegum.”

Another huff. “If I do that-”

“Just do it,” Marceline sighed, exasperated. Her jam session had been interrupted and now her accuser had the nerve to start something in her own turf and yell at her in some weird language she didn’t speak?  _ Ugh, no wonder she lives alone. _

“Fine!” With a glare into the darkness, where she imagined Marceline was watching her, Bonnibel turned, walked the designated five feet… into a wall. Animosity forgotten she blinked, tracing the barrier with her hand. “What…?” There certainly hadn’t been a wall before then, she had just come from that direction. It was smooth, too, way too smooth to be part of the cave. It was neither warm nor cold, solid enough to prevent her from moving forward without being hard enough to injure her, even if she had walked directly into it. As she traced it in wonder she felt a second oddity: something, some unseen force, was slowly dragging her backwards. It wasn’t a jerk or yank, nor did it cause her to stumble. It was careful, controlled, methodical, and stopped only when she was before the vampire once more.

“I’m telekinetic, Bubblegum. I can move stuff and make shields. Some other stuff, too. If something had gone wrong I wouldn’t have let you gotten hurt.”

Bonnibel listened, turned those words over in her mind, then shook her head. “No. That’s impossible.”

“Really? ‘Cause I could throw you out of my cave to prove it.”

_ Is that a threat?  _ “Vampires aren’t telekinetic!,” Bonnibel sputtered. “In no legend-”

“Yeah? ‘Cause the one I ganked was. I ganked him, ate his soul, and now I am.”

_ She’s mocking me!  _ “Vampires can’t eat souls!”

“Yeah, well,  _ I  _ can. You want another demonstration?” Whether or not Bonnibel wanted another demonstration was inconsequential because Marceline was intent on giving her one, not by throwing her forcefully out of the cave as threatened or eating her soul as implied, but by summoning a small orange fireball whose light danced along the cold black walls in the center of her palm. “This a lie too, Bubblegum?”

If it was it was a convincing one. “But… that’s… how…?” Her intellectual curiosity had begun to override her natural distrust of the older woman, because like it or not this was an oddity to say the least, and utterly fascinating to say the most.”

“Long story,” Marceline grunted. “You done now? Can I go?”  _ Wait, why should I go?  _ “Or. You know. You go?”

“Absolutely not!” Now the anger was truly gone. Bonnibel lifted her hand over the flame, not close enough to melt it but close enough to confirm that it was definitely an authentic flame, not an illusion. “I had no idea you could…” She blinked, her eyes widening as her hand withdrew, gross realization settling over her. “You could have killed me at any time.”

Marceline’s own eyes widened as she extinguished her flame. “Dude! What the stuff?! I wasn’t going to kill you! I was just messing with you!” She paused, but only briefly, before her eyes narrowed. “Oh. I get it. The vampire was gonna kill you. Man, you really are-”

“No no!” Bonnibel shook her head. She had a scientific marvel on her hands, and she was not about to let it slip away. Not until she was done studying it, and even then- “Not because you’re a vampire, but because you’re… you! You destroyed my lab, you’ve-”

“Yeah, I’ve done stuff, but kill? Uh uh. I died tried to protect humans from being killed. You really think I’m gonna-”

Well, that answered that earlier question. “You… died?”

Marceline sighed forcefully. “ _ Yes.  _ How do you think vampires happen?”

“I’m not sure! That’s why I was trying to study you when I accidentally woke you up!”

“You tried to hurt Schwabl!” That was a day Marceline would never forget, not in any of the centuries to come. In fact, it was the heart of the matter, the reason the prank war began in the first place, because Marceline had woken up to a scalpel by her neck and a strange woman trying to do… something to the half-demon’s beloved dog.

“And what, exactly, is a Schwabl?”

Marceline pointed to the dog hiding behind her floating leg with a glare, realized that apparently candy golems couldn’t see in the dark, rolled her eyes, and growled. “My dog, dingus! I saw you trying to cut him! You’re here accusing me of trying to gank you or whatevs and you were the one trying to hurt a poor dog. What the flip is wrong with you?!”

Perhaps, phrased in that exact manner, perhaps Marceline had a point. At least, from her perspective. In reality the candy golem had only wanted some of his fur, but she could see, in retrospect, how that must look bad given the circumstances. Bonnibel took a deep, steadying breath, then exhaled. “Is that why you’ve been tormenting me? Because you think I was going to hurt your pet?”

“Tormenting? You seriously think  _ that  _ was torment? Dude, you pranked back every time! Some of it was even-” She stopped, jaw clamping shut.

“Even what?” An indignant question, asked in a curious manner, and suddenly Marceline was glad she couldn’t be seen in the pitch of the cave.

“...Some of it was even fun. You were hardcore sometimes. It was fun.”

Whatever Bonnibel had been expecting, it wasn’t that. “Fun,” she deadpanned. “You thought all of this was fun?”

“Well, yeah. Why else do you do stuff? I pranked you, you pranked back, so I pranked you, and you pranked back.”

Bonnibel’s lips tightened as she mulled over not only Marceline’s words, but her tone of voice. Something crossed between confusion and irate. “...I believe there’s been a misunderstanding.” Not that she had considered any of it ‘fun’ as the vampire had, but… “You believed this was… what? Some sort of game?”

“Well, yeah. What else would it be?”

_ She was trying to play? Is this typical of her species, or… just her?  _ For that matter, had Bonnibel ever thought of it as fun? Now that the belief that Marceline had been actually trying to hurt her was being reasonably dispelled, could she consider her actions through another lens?  _ No. Regardless of her intention she still engaged in willful and serious property damage and could have unintentionally injured someone, no matter her claims of telekinesis or… what have you.  _ “You say that as if all of this were harmless fun. It wasn’t. You could have hurt someone unintentionally, or destroyed my home.” And yet. “Look,” Bonnibel sighed. “This has gotten out of hand. I wish to make a truce.” The words felt soul in her mouth, but they were necessary. For now. She would think of something later, some way to make this palatable.

“A truce.” Marceline did not sound convinced.

Bonnibel nodded. “Yes. Before one of us does something she-”  _ or you  _ “-will regret. I apologize for almost hurting your pet. It was not my intention.” At least that much was true. She had thought Schwabl was deceased. Not that this seemed the time to mention this tidbit of information.

Silent contemplation. “...You know I’m not sorry, right?”

Bonnibel felt her eye twitch and wondered how good the half-demon’s night vision was. If she could see it. “Yes. I suspect as much. Regardless, I apologize and wish to truce.” For emphasis she held out her hand, not entirely sure if she was going to get it back. At first nothing happened, no response be it verbal or non. Then she felt something cold slip into it and she jumped, only to realize that it was another hand.

“Fine. Truce. Now out of my cave.” When she went to withdraw her hand she felt it trapped in one much warmer than her own.

“Wait.” Her voice was soft, just enough so that Marceline didn’t forcibly pull her hand free. Not that Bonnibel let go. In the darkness of the cave she had no other way of knowing where the other woman was. “You destroyed my lab and set my research back weeks.”

Phrased like that, Marceline almost felt bad. “So?”

“...You don’t drink blood.” Bonnibel made sure to phrase it as a statement, not a question. Based on her previous reaction it seemed to be a sore topic.

“No. I don’t. Point?” The response was cold nonetheless.

“What do you eat?”

“Why.”

_ I want to study you.  _ She didn’t say that part, but she did have an idea. “I have a proposition. You destroyed my lab and my research, and though you say you would have protected me my own pet could have been hurt.”

“...Your pet?” If Bonnibel didn’t know any better she could have sworn there was actual concern in the queen’s voice.

“Yes. Her name is Science. She’s a rat-”

“You named your rat Science?”

“It’s a fine name for a rat. Regardless, she sleeps in odd places and she could have been hurt. Even I wasn’t sure where she was at the time. Your actions could have killed her.”  _ You owe me.  _ She didn’t say that either.

“...Sorry.” It was a soft mutter, but it sounded honest.

_ An animal loving vampire that doesn’t drink blood?  _ This was just getting more intriguing by the moment. “It’s alright… but you can make it up to me. I’ll never meet someone like you again. Let me… well, tell me more about what you are. How you came to be like… well, a vampire. How you ate, or eat, souls, and how you derive nourishment if not through the consumption of blood. Then we can part ways or… however else we choose to-”

“Fine.”

That was surprisingly easy. “What?”

“It’s fine,” Marceline sighed. “If I don’t say yes you’re probably gonna keep bothering me, right?”

_ Absolutely.  _ “Yes. I take scientific investigation very seriously-”

“Yup. Nerd. Got it.”

_ At least she’s beginning to sound less incensed.  _ “Yes. Exactly. And… I apologize for unintentionally insulting you.”

Marceline released something between a sigh and a grunt, but when she withdrew her hand she stayed where she was. “Yeah, well… I’m sorry I wrecked your stuff. I didn’t know it was that important.”

For the first of many times, Bonnibel smiled in Marceline’s presence. Because of Marceline. “I accept. Now… why don’t we try introductions once more.”

“That’s dumb.”

“No, it’s the proper way to get off on the right foot.”

Marceline rolled her eyes but, for the first of many times, she smiled in Bonnibel’s presence. Because of Bonnibel. “You won’t let this go until I do, huh?”

“No.”

“Fine. Have it your way, Bubblegum-”

“Bonnibel.”

Marceline stopped short, waiting for the other woman to continue. When she didn’t, Marceline did. “What?”  The candy golem smiled. The vampire had finally stopped sounding so heated, had even started to sound a little curious. In time, once she got over her hang-up of how they met, Marceline would grow just as curious about the candy golem as the candy golem was about her. For now the two would have no way of knowing that. They knew nothing of what was ahead of them, nothing of what they would become to one another. They only knew what was superficial, they almost exclusively had misunderstandings to go on. Trust would take time, and what would emerge between them beyond trust would take decades more. But in that cave two immortal women watched one another, even as one strained in the dark to see through what the other called home. That would change as well, slowly, in little ways at first that would snowball into big ways, into a shared life. It was unfathomable to both, and they had no way of knowing this, any of it. But they were going to find out, and it would begin with a single step. 

“My name is Bonnibel.”


End file.
